Where Were You?
by Mellaithwen
Summary: When I needed you the most. AU for Common Thread. Ryan defies God’s request at taking a hike, and now Joan has to face the pain losing Adam forever.


**Where Were You?**

**By Mellaithwen**

****

**Rating: K+**

****

**Genre: Angst/Tragedy**

****

**Disclaimer: Nope**

****

**Summary: When I needed you the most. AU for Common Thread. Ryan defies God's request at taking a hike, and now Joan has to face the pain losing Adam forever. Character Death.**

**Edited to remove lyrics by Kathrin Shorr**

**

* * *

**

'_My tears have been my food  
__day and night,  
__while people say to me continually,  
__"Where is your God?"' – Psalm 42_

"Joan!" Will cried, taking his daughter's shoulders in his own, desperate for something other than the constant rocking making him dizzy with worry.

"Joan, Please!"

Helen moved forward and cried out her name. _"Joan, Joan."_

No reply.

She had been like this for weeks, they had tried to be there for her, every one of them, but she didn't listen anymore, not to her Fathers shouts, begging her, not to her Mothers soft cries, or both of her brothers acting more sincere than ever before, not even to Grace, showing a gap in her usually hard exterior, kneeling on Joan's floor, calling to her, crying, not wanting to lose another friend, not again.

But Joan didn't reply.

She couldn't bring herself to speak, to move from her spot on the floor, in the darkest corner of her room where the sunlight did not reach.

The only thing she heard when she looked up was her fathers voice, out of synch with his mouth.

"_I'll make it ok."_ He says again and again. _"That's my job."_

She was too far gone, too far gone in the pain and suffering, everything mounting on top of her. Judith's death, and now this, she had lost them both.

_Rain pattering at an un-steady pace, slapping down onto the porch, falling into the puddles of mud, pat, pat, pat, in quick __succession. _

'_Gotta calm down' Joan thought to herself and took a seat at the chair in the corner of the porch, taking out her work-in-progress._

"_How's the knitting going, Joan? " The park ranger, otherwise known as God, asked as he neared Joan on the porch, the rain falling in heavy drops all around them. _

"_So God cares more about knitting than Adam? I don't think we don't have much to talk about. "_

"_You're angry. I understand. "_

_What did he know about anger? He was never angry, always calm and collected, with only made her more angry. Mindless conversation buzzed as she attempted to destroy her work-in-progress-scarf to release the hatred. _

"_Am I ever gonna see him again? I don't mean in another form. I mean here, now. " She said, standing up, tears forming, terror taking hold. _

"_You feel how painful it is to try and sever a connection, but they can never really be broken. All of creation shares a common thread, like your scarf. How you use that thread becomes the pattern of your life. "_

"_So what's happening now...is it because... I--I knitted my life wrong?" She sucked in a breath, her chest shaky as her emotions started to take over." I believe in you. I've seen the ripples. I've seen how it changes people's lives. Even when I didn't see, I trusted you."_

"_And you've developed strength and understanding and faith. New challenges are gonna make you even stronger. "_

"_For what? Huh, for what? How much stronger do I have to be?"_

_And suddenly it's as if Joan wasn't important. He looks to the woods, and at first it looks like he's merely lost in thought, pondering the question, and how to answer it, but then he frowns, as if it pains him greatly to look. Joan follows his gaze to look at the shadowed trees of the woods, their menacing branches reminding her of Snow White and The Seven Dwarves. _

_She continues to stare, waiting for God to announce his daydreaming, his train of thought, but nothing. He spins on his feet, and rushes to the edge of the wood, searching, waiting, standing rigid, his shoulders shaking, and Joan wonders if this is him angry. _

_His eyes seem alight with a blaze of fury. He begins to pace and takes a step forward to go into the woods, all the while a sinking feeling making its way into Joan's stomach. _

_He's about to cross the rocky stream to the muddy terrain when another ranger steps out of the cabin, calling to God suddenly, telling him to not be an idiot, to come back inside, reassuring that they'd look in the morning._

_He follows to the porch and looks at Joan suddenly. His mouth opens and closes, and he doesn't know what to say. He walks into the cabin, and when Joan follows him, no more than a second later, he's gone._

All of the pain she had caused, it didn't matter if it had turned out ok in the end. All she could see were the faces of scorn, all she could hear were there voices telling her to back off, to stay away. All she knew was the guilt, weighing her down, crushing her, suffocating her.

God had left her long ago. She had screamed she had begged and one day, He just stopped coming. Though completely: she doubted. At first she had realized that she had to deal, that she wouldn't miss their cryptic conversations, or the familiar feeling of being around Him.

And sometimes, she would be walking to school, or be at the bookstore, and someone would go past, or ask for a book, and there'd be a twinkle in their eyes, as if hoping this modern day Joan Of Arc would announce her changed mind, but no words parted her lips, and her mind was silent.

His last visit, he had gone to the bookstore, a time when Joan had managed to get out of bed

No reply.

He would walk away, and eventually he stopped trying, resigning to merely watching from above. He had felt her give him the cold shoulder, wanting to have a "normal life" and he had missed her then, but this, this he knew she meant. He had so hoped that Joan would get through this pain, but the chances were small, but, being God did have its perks and he had one more trick up his sleeve.

* * *

Losing him, losing Adam had been too much. She had tried desperately to face the world to ignore him at school after the breakup, to go on, but she couldn't. She just couldn't. That's when it had happened, just when she didn't think the pit could get any deeper, she fell further into darkness.

"_You had no right." She had hissed and just like that, He had appeared. A large man came striding towards her, and she felt relief, for the sole fact that she knew how much easier it would be to scream at a large man, than a tiny old woman. _

_She glared at the Almighty. _

"_You.Had.No.Right." She said through gritted teeth, her facing turning red from the sheer anger she felt. They may not have been together, but she still loved him with all of her heart, and she couldn't stop herself from wondering, what if? _

_What if he'd stayed at home? What if he'd stayed at home and slowly but surely their relationship began to mend. They became friends again, like before, and just like before they would be together again._

_What if she'd suddenly forgiven him, what if this was just a test to prove their love for each other? Surely they had been through enough? Was this really necessary? Of course it wasn't. There was no need. _

_The stuff of dreams, that's what 'what ifs' were. Should haves, could haves…just and endless train of regrets, everything except him. Everything could be regretted except being with Adam, being in love, and being loved in return._

_She conveniently left out the parts where he broke her heart._

'_He was young, he was smart, and he loved me, and I loved him.' The words went around in circles in Joan's head._

_God's eyes fell to the floor. _

'_He's ashamed?' Joan thought ' God's ashamed? Well so He should be!' She didn't care if He could hear her._

_Still He didn't answer, and it only infuriates Joan even further._

"_You had no RIGHT!" She had screamed at the top of her lungs, and protested the entire time that He tried to steer her away from the very public space she had chosen._

"_Joan…" He started again, but she didn't care. _

"_Why? Why? Why not tell me to do something, to stop the chain reaction to stop him, to stop- to stop You getting him! To apologize to take back everything I said, to see him that morning before he went out!"_

_He only sighed, seeing no break in her sadness, no crack where a stream of light could burst through. Only the darkness enveloping her sweet __caring soul. He only sighed. _

"_I didn't make him go out there, Joan." He said it solemnly, as though He wished it another way. _

"_Don't start, don't start about free will, you say "No favoritism" but you know what, after everything you've failed to explain fully and all the crap, I think just this once, just this little thing might have been deserved! How can you be so cold?"_

"_Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not, and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow." He said simply, with a solemn tone. _

_Joan stared._

_Tears fell freely now, and she muttered "You had no right." Again and again, though she felt slight regret for her words. He held her close, and she couldn't pull back, a part of her wanted to, to keep up the act of truly hating him, purely without doubt, without making excuses for him, because there was no one she could blame but herself, and even that took its toll. _

* * *

She had regretted her every word, and wished it had been another way. She wanted to forget it all, and a part of her, a stupid part of her but a part still so full of love for him, wanted to forget what he'd done, with _her_. Forget the betrayal and the heart ache and start again, from watching that timid boy stutter as he was interrupted from his sculpture at seeing Joan in the doorway.

She longed to study with him once more, to stand close enough to breath in his scent to feel the cool breeze run down her spine as he kissed her. Her heart catching in her throught as he walked towards her, a smile playing on his face.

This was all His fault. But she knew it wasn't true. She wanted an outlet, she wanted to blame someone, and though she felt close to God, he was an easy target, a sitting duck for all the problems of the world to be placed on his shoulders.

She blamed herself of course, knowing she should have done something, knowing why he had gone out that night, knowing the pain that was tearing him apart, because the same pain tore through her, for causing his. The guilt would never leave her, and innocence would never claim her, but maybe, just maybe, it wasn't her fault, and pitying herself wouldn't help.

She had said those words like a mantra to herself, every time she walked through the corridors of school alone, voices trailing after her in sympathy, every time she saw his empty space in her AP Chemistry class, or his work, his divine sketches stuck onto her bedroom wall, reminding her of such a talent, now wasted, dead and gone.

His photo's, pictures of him and her, together, laughing, embracing, hugging, loving each other more than any other could ever love them.

Pictures taped together after having being ripped in her rage. She couldn't believe her eyes when her mother had given them to her, having salvaged them from complete destruction of being thrown away, and having taped them together expertly in a way only a mother can.

At first it hadn't really sunk in, and she kept them in her box, in the box of his drawings, but soon after she hated having to find them. She put them on her wall and stared at the all day.

Tears fell in great numbers each time she stared, each time a memory resurfaced and she end up phoning his number, as if praying he would pick up. She would hear his fathers voice on the other end and she would apologize hastily but he understood, and he tried not to break down each time she asked for Adam.

He had consoled her once or twice when she could hide the emotions no longer, but soon she would have no energy to continue and he would hear the dial tone ringing through the receiver.

Now she didn't eat, didn't move, didn't see or hear anything. Only darkness everywhere, her eyes permanently rimmed with a red border. Her cheeks streaked with tears so much that it became uncommon for her cheeks to be dry. She would remember why she had been crying, and just like that, she would start again.

Darkness, a constant companion. And without it there cannot be light, thought that is true, Joan no longer cared. She cowered from the lights of her life. It was so much easier to hide in the darkness, where no one could see her. Where there was no spotlight, just a shadow always with her.

Then it comes to her, a light in the darkness, the lighthouse's beacon guiding her boat from the perilous waters to the safe shore. The sweet petals of the rose calling to her from the valley of thorns.

It comes to her, a voice, so soft and caring, so wonderful. A voice that brings color back to her life, brings a warmth to her heart, and though the tears still fall, and she continues to shake, the rocking has stopped.

She doesn't look up, she doesn't dare, she doesn't want the light to go out, and if this sweet imagery, her mind playing tricks on her, playing that wonderful voice back to her, if it was all a dream, then she wanted to stay there forever, away from the nightmares.

A hand touches her chin and tries to steer her head upwards, tries to look in her eyes, so happy that there was some reaction before, and knowing why. He said it again, his voice full of hope for her to cross the bridge, to come out of her stupor, of the depression that still clung tightly to her heart. He says it once more, and looks her straight in the eyes when she dares meet his. His beautiful eyes, his soft smile, his dark ringlets hanging over his forehead. His hoodie down.

She knows it isn't real, or maybe it is?

No…

She knows he isn't there and that she's been left alone to calm down, her family downstairs, but she listens to his call still. His soft touch on her cheek, wiping away her tears. Plunging her deeper into insanity? Or merely God's gift to her for one small moment?

She doesn't care and she relishes in it for one last time, the one thing that she knows will bring her back into the light of day. The single word parting from his lips, bringing fresh tears to her eyes, signaling that her time in darkness was over.

"_Jane."_

**-****Fin**

**Please Review**


End file.
